Watching the peach fly toward him at a leisurely pace, Edgar "Third Hawk" Young sneered and reached out to catch it, saying, "Kid, you actually dare to throw hands at your grandpa? You're dead...!"
Suddenly, Edgar's words froze—he realized his hand had grabbed nothing but air.
"Huh?!"
The peach suddenly accelerated, smashing into Edgar's chest with a loud thud. He cried out in pain, stumbled backward, and spat out a mouthful of fresh blood in midair.
Seeing Edgar get sent flying, none of the seated chiefs looked surprised. After all, if Bruno "Bear King" Barrett—who was even stronger than Edgar—had been blasted away by a single jujube, did anyone really think Edgar could fare better?
After a moment, Edgar slowly got up from the ground, his eyes still full of disbelief.
Now he finally understood why Bear King had given up his usual seat and let someone else take it—he must've suffered a loss at this young man's hands too. Otherwise, with Bruno's temper, how could he let anyone steal his spot?
Edgar shot Shawn Steele a deep, wary look, then slunk off toward one of the tables near the main doors.
About half a minute later, a short, slightly chubby middle-aged man entered the hall, flanked by a young man and woman.
At the sight of him, all the seated bandit chiefs immediately stood up.
"Greetings, Lone-Blade Chief!"
"Hello, Chief Lone-Blade."
...
Facing the crowd's greetings, the short middle-aged man nodded in response, smiling as he walked straight toward the host's seat without pausing.
That's right—this short, chubby man was none other than Lone-Blade Gideon, the chief of Blue Dragon Stronghold.
But as Lone-Blade Gideon passed by Shawn Steele, he slowed down and gave a slight nod.
For a moment, every eye in the hall was fixed on Shawn Steele.
At that moment, Shawn was busy gnawing on a roast chicken, seemingly oblivious to Lone-Blade Gideon's arrival—and he certainly wasn't about to get up and offer a greeting.
For a brief moment, the hall fell into an oddly silent hush.
Everyone realized that Shawn Steele was openly challenging Lone-Blade Gideon's authority. The tension in the air made it clear—something big was about to go down tonight.
“How dare you! The Chief is here—why aren’t you standing up to greet him?”
The young man who’d entered with Lone-Blade Gideon glared at Shawn Steele and barked out his rebuke.
Trailing behind Lone-Blade were his foster son Gavin Loneblade and foster daughter Valerie Loneblade, both adopted and trained in martial arts since childhood. Now both were peak second-rate fighters—Gavin was big and burly, a bit slow-witted, while Valerie was a beauty.
“You talking to me?”
Shawn Steele looked up at Gavin and asked.
Gavin snorted, “Who else would I be talking to? Get up and apologize to my foster father!”
“Moron.”
Shawn rolled his eyes and cursed.
“You’re asking for it!” Gavin roared, about to rush Shawn, but Lone-Blade Gideon barked, “Enough, Gavin! Mind your manners!” Then he turned to Shawn, forcing a smile. “You must be young Shawn, Victor Steele’s son. You really are a fine-looking, talented young man!”
“Don’t act so familiar. Are we close or something?” Shawn sneered, curling his lip.
The whole hall froze at those words. Shawn had just slapped Lone-Blade’s face in public, and all eyes turned to Gideon to see how he’d respond.
Gideon kept smiling. “You’ve got a sense of humor, Shawn. Actually, I was close friends with your father back in the day—”
Shawn cut him off with a raised hand. “Don’t try to play the family card. If you do, I’ll feel bad about robbing you.”
Gideon froze, and the other bandit chiefs looked just as stunned.
“You little punk, do you even know where you are? How dare you act up here—I’ll take you down and let my foster father deal with you!” Gavin finally lost it. He sprang into the air like a tiger pouncing down the mountain, aiming straight at Shawn.
“Heh.”
Shawn just smiled, unfazed, and flicked his finger.
A flash of qi shot like lightning, piercing Gavin’s dantian. He grunted and crashed to the ground, struggling but unable to get up.
The other bandit chiefs were stunned. Shawn had just attacked Lone-Blade’s foster son right on his turf—no matter how strong he was, even a first-rate master would be hard-pressed to survive a siege by Blue Dragon’s top fighters.
Sure enough...
When Gavin hit the ground, Lone-Blade’s smile vanished.
Before he could speak, Shawn flashed to the center of the hall—so fast even Lone-Blade couldn’t track his movement. Startled, Gideon swallowed the words he was about to say.
Patting his stomach, Shawn grinned. “All right, I’m full. Time for business. Listen up, everyone—it’s robbery time! Hand over everything valuable you’ve got!”
“Robbery?”
The bandit chiefs stared in disbelief.
They were all bandit chiefs—usually the ones doing the robbing. Now someone wanted to rob them? Absurd.
Lone-Blade’s face turned completely dark. He growled, “Shawn, that joke’s gone far enough!”
Shawn shot him a dirty look. “Who says I’m joking? What, are your ears busted? Fine, I’ll say it again—right now, it’s robbery time! Every single one of you, hand over your valuables!”
“Pfft!”
Valerie Loneblade finally couldn’t hold back and burst out laughing.
Shawn glared at her. “What are you laughing at? Be serious—this is a real robbery!”
“Pfft!”
Valerie cracked up again, unable to help herself.
Seeing this, Shawn threatened her: “Hey, girl, laugh one more time and I’ll rob you and make you my fire-tending maid!”
Valerie just shrugged. “You’re really something. Bold, too. But hurry up and get back to your seat—this isn’t the place for your nonsense.”
“Who says I’m joking? I really am robbing you guys!”
Shawn sighed. The system had given him a mission—two hundred different kinds of robbery in three years. That’s why he’d robbed Zack Zhu mid-mountain, and why he was robbing all these bandit chiefs in the Hall of Righteousness. Otherwise, as a Foundation-Building expert, why would he bother shaking down a bunch of nobodies?
“Shawn, I’ll give you one last chance—step back now, or don’t blame me for what happens!” Lone-Blade’s voice rang out again.
“Hey, who asked you to give me a chance? If you’re not happy, come fight me!” Shawn pointed at Lone-Blade.
“You’re courting death!”
Murderous intent flashed in Lone-Blade’s eyes. He lunged at Shawn like a shadow.
Bang!
But in the next instant, Lone-Blade was sent flying even faster than he’d attacked, crashing onto a table and smashing it to pieces...
Shawn had already shocked everyone once today, but seeing Lone-Blade blasted away in a single move left the bandit chiefs utterly stunned.
Seeing their dumbfounded faces, Shawn cursed, “Damn it, you idiots—are you handing over your valuables or not? Or do I have to break your legs one by one before you listen?”